


tell me where the line is

by crownedSerpent09



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Journalism, Alternate Universe - Office, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, warnings to added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedSerpent09/pseuds/crownedSerpent09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neil is a sports reporter with a penchant for trouble. Andrew is the editor-in-chief Neil is sent to help.</p><p>There's a deadline. They're not sure if they can survive it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell me where the line is

Neil was in love with the feeling of his fingertips hitting a keyboard and the clacking of the keys that had always meant power to him. If there was anything Neil coveted, it was his voice in matters of import, and writing gave him the capability to leave imprints of that in material that could transcend borders and time, even if the words were not his. As a reporter, he didn’t get much room to critic in his work, only evaluate, and that was enough to pass on his thoughts to the thousands that read the news through the styling of his words.

Neil had sought for the ability to have others hear his words ever since he had left his childhood home and the oppression therein. He’d worked as a journalist in his college’s newspaper and then a typist right out of school. He’d been employed in one other sports magazine before he came to work on the online news site  _ The Reporter _ , in the sports section. He was good at his job, undergoing many promotions and even creating a reputation for himself as a reporter that asked the questions that would coax out a story, and oftentimes a scandal, from famous athletes.

Neil wasn’t especially into scandal or such that would provide entertainment and more views on their site. He just wasn’t into bullshit. His coworker, Allison, often said he had a nose for it. That might be the truth, but Neil was all too familiar with athletes that were revered and exalted in the public eye and then went home and beat their wives, or those that paid a little more to gain advantages in the game, or breaking out in fights that “coincidentally” left a key player in the opposing team incapacitated. In his mid-twenties, Neil Josten was more in tune to the faults of humanity than most in their middling years.

“Josten,” Wymack called in his gruff voice. 

Neil abandoned his spread on the Lions vs. Longhorns game to step into the tiny office, flanked on all sides by filing cabinets. Only the wall behind the editor-in-chief’s desk and the space that held the door was clear of the metal boxes. Instead, Wymack sat at his large, scratched wood desk with an array of framed newspaper clippings, journalism awards, and bulletin boards stretched out behind his back.

He shut the door carefully behind him before he took his spot in front of the desk. Wymack’s eyes, though faded in color, were piercing without the barrier of the glasses he usually wore.

“Did you find out what was happening with Kevin Day?” Wymack asked in a low tone.

“Very little, but enough that I can see what’s going on. It’s purely speculation, though, and there’s no way we can print it.” Neil removed with the pen that was stuck behind his ear and clicked it as he relayed his response. Wymack looked down at his hand, mild irritation passing through his features for a breath of a second before disappearing.

He didn’t ask for details. Wymack knew that whatever Neil could tell him was only going to keep him up at night, and he didn’t need that when the information couldn’t even be used.

“I’ll have Renee keep going on her end, but you can take a break on this for a while. I have a new project for you.”

Neil trampled down the disappointment that rose in his chest. He’d learned the hard way that getting too involved would only make him lose sleep. Thank god the trail turned cold before the case became somewhat personal for Neil. Then he would not have been able to let it go.

“We’re opening another office in Columbia. It’s supposed to work closely with ours, and so far it’s severely understaffed. I’m going to send you there both to help out until they get up and running and as a liaison to our office. You’ll end up picking up stories that their staff of three can’t complete and communicate with our end so we can delegate stories to the Columbia office.”

Neil stood still as Wymack explained his role, the pen twirling in his hands out of nervous habit. “I get the picking up stories part, especially if they’ve only got three people so far, but why liaison? It seems quite a simple matter for their editor-in-chief to just communicate with you directly.”

“You’ll understand when you get there, I’m sure.” Wymack sighed, like he couldn’t believe it was only Tuesday. He was still recovering his energy from the convention on the weekend, Neil knew. Neil was still recovering from his weekend activities himself. “Or even before. Those three have quite the reputation, and it’ll be easier for everyone if you’d be the liaison until he got used to me.”

The sports editor didn’t ask who “he” was, coming to the conclusion that it had to be the editor-in-chief of the new Columbia office. After discussing transferring his workload with Wymack and what to take with him to Columbia, Neil asked, “When do I start?”

“Next Monday,” Wymack answered. “I’ve emailed you the office’s information as well as the contact information of all of the staff. Good luck.”

Neil gave a short smile as he turned to go, but he was stopped by the sound of Wymack’s voice.

“You have this Friday off still, don’t you, Josten?”

“Yeah,” Neil replied with one raised eyebrow.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Wymack had said those words to him so many times Neil could complete the sentence in his head before Wymack finished it out loud.

“I won’t,” was his usual answer. Wymack snorted, but he let Neil return to his cubicle to finish up the work he needed to do before he left for Columbia.

They both knew that the Ravens played Penn State on Friday. And Neil really wasn’t one to stay away.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a fluffy one-shot about Andreil as flirting office workers. I did this instead.


End file.
